Fighting For Redemption
by Voydag
Summary: The sand of time, always in motion…Once again he’s been called, but this time he will have to face evil for the greater good and fight for the land of the living.


**_Author's note_**: 4 years ago Stephen Sommers and Arnold Vosloo succeed in doing something no one had ever been able to do before. They scared me to death! I believe I screamed the entire theater together and had nightmares for weeks. My sister swore she would never, ever go see another movie with me again. Last year I finally found the courage to see The Mummy Returns. Mind you with my eyes half closed and the sound off. vbg Pathetic, I know… A week ago, for reasons unknown I rented The Mummy again. I survived and enjoyed myself immensely! How I have to justify this latest mind twist of mind? I don't know… It just sort of popped into my head and had to come out. It is a piece of fiction and although I'll try to be true to my history lessons and keep the mystical and religious world of Egypt intact, I might twist and bend it a bit. 

I hope you'll enjoy it… have fun! One more thing…please forgive me, but English is not my first language.

**_Title_**: Fighting for Redemption

**_Author_**: Dagmar De Meyer

**_Disclaimer_**: I don't own The Mummy, which is the property of Universal Pictures and Stephen Sommers. I only broke into their archives and borrowed what they started and had them play in my mind twists. 

**_Rated_**: General, for now. 

**_Reviews_**: Oh, yes please… For better or worse I suppose.

**_Summary:_** The sand of time, always in motion…Once again he's been called, but this time he will have to face evil for the greater good and fight for the land of the living. 

Fighting for Redemption 

By Dagmar De Meyer

The sands of time whirled around and Anubis forced the oases, he had granted 'a mortal' millennia ago, back to the sand it had grown from. 

High above, in the world of Ra our heroes were once again safe. Drifting on the wind they left behind a nightmare and only thought of a future yet to come. 

No one noticed the object down on the dessert's sand, an omen of evil that even the protector of death did not want in his world and returned it to the land of the living. Where it laid for decennia, defying the sands that threatened to cover it for all eternity.

Day and night came and went, the moon and sun chased each other and still it lay in wait. Then one morning the sound of life echoed over the desert's plain. A caravan of camels, horses and men passed what had once been a cursed place. But to no avail, slowly the life force of the living disappeared. Or did it? In the blue light of the moon a shadow emerged, a figure all dressed in black with only his eyes visible to the world. Eyes filled with pain and anger, eyes still so young, one black one green. Kneeling down he stretched forth his hand, revealing the dark mark on the inside of his wrist. A tattoo! A tattoo recently applied by the looks of it, the flesh still red around it. A high pitch laugh pierced the silent desert as the stranger looked at the object in his hands. The 'book of the death' had been found! The figure mounted his horse and disappeared into the night.

**_* * * * * *_**

Chapter  1 : The beginning

Thebes. City of the Living. The Crown jewel of Egypt slowly came back to live after a long period of mourning. The pharaoh had died and for seventy days they had prayed as the body was prepared for mummification. His son Ramses, now ruler of the land of Egypt watched out over Thebes as the sun set behind the pyramids of his ancestors. The people had mourned their king, now he knew it was time to begin the feasts for his coronation. 

The traitor Imhotep had been dealt with. Ramses shivered involuntarily as he thought of the punishment he had bestowed on his one time friend. The Hom-Dai! A fitting sentence for the murderer of the living god? Had he done wrong? Yes, he knew he had, he was made aware of it all too soon. In a fit of rage and sorrow over his father's death he had handled without thinking. In ordering the priests mummified alive and Imhotep cursed with the Hom-Dai he had put an even worse fate over his father. With no one to lead the rides of passage after the mummification, the temple of Osiris all but abandoned, and he realizing too late to appoint a successor, the High priest of Seth had taken over the journey of Seti and taken revenge for his seclusion.

The curse placed on his father's earthly remains was far greater the Hom-Dai could ever be. Ramses had kept quiet; the burial had gone ahead as planned, but without the mummy of his father. The mummy of his father had been removed for his tomb in the Valley of the Kings and brought to Abydos. The temple his father had built held many secrets and Ramses knew them all. Leading deep underground a secret temple had been build know only to a select few. There, chiseled deep within the earth a tunnel was made and Seti's sarcophagus buried for all eternity. Blessed with prayers from Osiris, Ramses hoped that Seth's curse would be buried forever.

**_* * *_**

Light coming through the open door revealed a larger storage area. Boxes lined the walls from floor to ceiling, all covered in dust accumulated over the years the room had been closed. Here and there boxes had fallen to the ground and cracked open revealing the contents they were carrying. Paintings, statues, all neatly stacked and placed, not moved in years. A switch was flicked and with a bit of hesitation the lights above flickered to life.

Moving down the stairs three men looked around the illuminated area. The dust dancing around their feet and legs as they moved farther among the art riches around them. A gasp was heard from one of the men and found him staring at a golden statue of a cat. The second man, more interested in the paintings was smiling down at what was obviously a Degas.

"Now this I would not mind having hanging above the fire place." He mussed.

"Take it, it is yours." The third man answered not looking up as he made his way to the centre of the room and the strange yellow glass stone, that lay on the ground before him.

"Maybe I will." The answer came as the man joined his college, soon followed by the man carrying the golden cat.

"I will take this."

"Do as you please…I do not care." 

"For a famous art dealer you do not seem to care much for art Mister Southern."

"Oh, my dear Mister Cole I care a great deal about the precious remains of our history. Especially when I get money for it. I am being generous, besides what is still to explore in this room will keep those historians busy for years to come." Mr. Southern stood holding the strange glassy substance in his hand.

"What is it?" Mr. Cole questioned peering over the other's shoulder. 

"If my sources are correct, I believe this was part of the creature's latest resurrection."

Throwing the piece away he walked back his eyes roaming the room as if looking for something. Behind him Mr. Cole shivered and stepped away from the broken pieces, his imagination running away with him was not a good thing at the moment.

"Mr. Anders, how are the plans for our trip going?" Southern asked not looking back.

Startled at being addressed Anders almost dropped the golden statue and stammered; "Fi…fine Sir, just fine. All the students signed on and as you requested I turned down that particular one."

"Good, good…" Southern only half listened to the blubbering fool of a historian. Still the Professor was needed if his plan were to succeed. The fact that he was so easily bribed had surprised him. Usually they had their almighty principles getting in the way. Out of the corner of his eye a golden flash got his attention. A smile on his face Southern bend down and looked at a dust-covered box. On top of it, glowing faintly in the light, lay the item of his desire. Blowing away the dust revealed a large golden object. 

"And this, gentlemen, is mine." Southern said, holding up what looked like a golden book.

"Good, can we go now," Cole said stepping passed Southern walking to the stairs. "This room gives me the creeps."

Followed by Anders, Cole climbed the stairs and walked the walkway to the door. Southern turned one last time and stared at a point in the centre of the room only he could see.

"I wish I were here that day to thank you Imhotep, for it is you who made it possible for me to complete my god's wishes." A great desire burned in his eyes, one black, one green…he flicked the switch and closed the door behind him. Walking the halls of the British Museum in London holding the 'golden book of Amun-Ra' close to his chest. The time was coming.

**_* * *_**

Although it was the beginning of December, an autumn sun shone in a clear blue sky. Oxford was filled with students whom for the first time since term started were able to enjoy the sun after a long two months of constant rain and drizzle. The wind was freezing cold but that did not deter the spirit of joy you felt among the students.

Watching the people passing by, Kathryn O'Connell sipped her cup of tea and felt the warm liquid fill her and made her hands tingle. Kathryn loved to see the sun, but was glad she finally made it inside. Oh, how she longed for summer, even an English one. 

Although native to the country, Kathryn never seemed to get used to the cold. The tea helped, still the shill that had attached itself to her bones each coming winter refused to go away for anything. Pushing her musings over her own physical shortcomings Kathryn turned her attention once again to the package in front of her. Right before she had gone dashing from her small apartment, being late, the postman had handed her the package.

"Hey Kat, wait up…" He had yelled after her. "I believe this is yours," smiling he handed her the package. Seeing her shiver he chuckled and said; "It's from Egypt, might warm you up."

Her hand freezing in mid air, partially from the cold, partially from shock Kathryn had stared at the package. Only the clock striking nine made her jump and run all the way to campus, arriving late as usual. And now, after a full days work in the library and her hieroglyphic's class; Kathryn had yet to open the strange package.

She knew who it was from and was in one way excited to getting something that had belonged to him and at the same time dreading to be confronted with something of his again.

Her train of thought was broken when a familiar voice called her name. Turning she saw Max Thomas standing in the doorway waving at her. Waving back and motioning him to join her, Kathryn watched Max make his way towards her yelling at the bartender for a cup of coffee.

"Hey gorgeous." Max said letting himself drop into a chair.

"Hi handsome." Kathryn smiled. 

Max, three years younger then herself was a history student and a very good friend. Well, really her only friend in Oxford. Both sharing a few classes together they had soon found a mutual interest in the history of Ancient Egypt. It had been a revelation to Kathryn that with Max she did not have to hide her fascination for the country as she had been forced to do her entire life where her family was concerned. They had spent countless hours buried in the library just reading and discussing and loving every minute of it.

"How was class?" Kathryn asked, reaching for her cup.

"Interesting…as always," Max responded. "Professor Anders went over the last minute changes for the Archeological trip next week. Oh, I'm really looking forward going to Egypt, my first time. By the way I missed you in his class today. I'll give you a copy of the list he gave us." Max went on not noticing his friend's slumped shoulders and sad looked as she stared out the window. A waiter brought his coffee and only then did he notice Kathryn's mood change.

"Hey, what's wrong?" 

"Nothing." Kathryn lied, placing a smile on her face.

"Did you finish the translation of the ancient text already," Kathryn started, changing the subject. "I'm so horribly stuck on the part where Osiris…"

"No, I haven't yet…I was planning to go to the library tonight and hit the books. But coming back to Anders, do you know that idiot has changed the itinerary and we are not going to get to see the pyramids. I mean, all right, we won't ever get permission to dig there but I did want to see them." Max stopped when seeing Kathryn tense up again.

"OK, now that I saw. Kat what's wrong? And don't tell me it's nothing I know you well enough."

Kathryn sighed and stared down at her hands. She was sad and angry at the same time. She remember quite vividly how Mr. Anders threw her application, for the 'field trip' as he called it, back in her face. Saying it was for students only and that her being only an occasional student for a hand full of classes did not make her qualified to attend. A librarian had no place whatsoever on an archaeological dig.

"I'm not going," Kathryn finally admitted.

"What do you mean, you're not going?" Max almost yelled, his coffee splashing over his cup, as he was just about to drink.

"Just what I'm saying, I'm not going."

"Why, but…I mean…why?"

"A librarian has no place on an archaeological dig." Kathryn mimicked the high voice of professor Anders and looked down her nose.

"Who said that?" Max was still shaking his head.

"Professor Anders."

"My question still stands. Why?"

"Oh, Max, for god sake how should I know. First he couldn't be more delighted with me going, being the great-granddaughter of Evelyn O'Connell and then all of a sudden I'm just a librarian and not a full student so the application was not for me in the first place."

"What a load of crap is that?!" Max said, his voice back under his control.

The duo fell silent, looking out of the window at the people passing by.

"Why don't you go on your own?" Max started.

"Yeah, right…" Kathryn mumbled.

"I mean, come on your own and I'll meet you there."

"Come on my own? How, my dear Maximilian, do you want me to do that?"

"By plane…"

"Haha…wise guy…and how do you expect me to pay for that 'plane' of yours, and the hotel and…"

"Ask your father." Max blurted out instantly regretting it. Kathryn's eyes narrowed and he could swear lighting bolts were sent his way.

"First of all, I would never ask my father and second even if I did, he would never give it to me. Especially not when he'd find out what I'd be doing with the money. He has barely forgiven me for coming to work her at the university let alone my courses in Ancient Egyptian history." Kathryn felt like she was lecturing.

Max, knowing he would not get anywhere now kept his mouth. He felt sorry for Kathryn, he really did. She had told him bits and pieces of her family's history and about her father's hatred of the subject. Max knew it was hatred for he had been there when Richard O'Connell came to visit his daughter and found out. The fact that she was 23 and lived her own live hadn't mattered. Finally it had been her mother who had dragged him away and wished her daughter good luck, not really meaning it. That had been 2 years ago and neither had been seen again.

"I'm sorry Kat." He whispered.

"Yes, me to…but hey, life goes on." Kathryn tried to laugh but failed miserably.

Seeing the need to change the subject, Max picked up the postal package and held it in front of Kathryn.

"What's this?" He queried.

"I don't know, I was about to open it when you waltzed through the door."

"I do not waltz."

Ignoring him Kathryn took the box from him and started opening it. "It's from my grandfather."

"Grandfather…as in Alex O'Connell?"

"The one and only."               

Kathryn put the box down and lifted the lid. The first thing she saw was an envelope. 'To my little Isis' it said and Kathryn smiled. Taking the envelope she placed it beside the box on the table and looked once again into the box. 

Max saw a whole set of emotions cross her face, surprise but mostly curiosity, he was about to say something when Kathryn's hand came into view holding the most peculiar looking object he had ever seen. A small box like object, 8 sides covered in hieroglyphics. 

"What is it?" Both whispered simultaneously. Delicate fingers moved across its surface and making both of them jump as it clicked open. A star shape formed and a note dropped out.

"The key of life and death!" Kathryn read from the piece of paper.

Looking at each other and then back at the, whatever it was, neither noticed the figure sitting a few tables behind them. Mouth wide open he stared at the object in the lady's hand.

"The key…"

**_* * * * * * * * * * * *_**

To be continued

**_Author's note 2 : _**Bad, good, OK, turn around, stop right here? Please let me know… It always HELPS a whole lot. I know it is still a bit confusing, still I hope you'll be asking for more. The story is in my head, so I know where I going… More familiar characters should surface soon enough!

Groetjes 

Dagmar (the curious)


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